Stark's Anatomy - A Hard Day's Night
by lookingforsilverlinings
Summary: Tony Stark is a surgical intern at Seattle Grace Hospital. He discovers that his one night stand is actually one of his bosses, and he and his new friends discover that being a surgeon isn't as easy or as fun as they thought it would be. A re-telling of Grey's Anatomy in Tony's POV. Note: Some of the characters are OOC. There's m/m pairings. Please bear with me.
1. Part 1

**Disclaimer:**

"**_A Hard Day's Night_**" is the very first episode of Grey's Anatomy (Season One, Episode One).

Credit for the original plot and storyline goes to Shonda Rhimes.

Credit for characters goes to Stan Lee.

Point of View narration is mine. That's all... so don't sue me. I haven't got any money...

Please read and review... any form of feedback will be quite helpful. :)

* * *

"The Game. They say a person either has what it takes to play, or they don't. My father was… one of the greats. Me, on the other hand… I'm kinda screwed."

* * *

Everything's fuzzy, okay? So, yeah, it's a dream. Unless it's not and it's some sort of hallucination… but I'm not awake. So yeah, it has to be a dream.

Oh… and I think I'm having one of those tequila-induced dreams that I manage to get when I decide to go for broke and get wasted on liquor… because everything seems so real but all hazy like I'm watching from a fogged up window.

And in my dream, I'm watching open heart surgery going very, VERY wrong...

One surgeon has his hands inside the chest of the patient, trying to stifle a stream of blood squirting out of the patient's arteries. Another was frazzled by the scene unfolding before her as her attending got drenched in the patient's blood.

The nurses were scurrying about trying to be of any assistance to the doctors, handing out tools and gauze and trying not to panic at the sound of the shouts and the beeping of the machines hooked up to the patient.

"SUCTION!" the blood drenched attending screamed at his resident. "I need to see what I'm doing! Don't just stand there! SUCTION!"

The surgeons are frantically trying to find out how the hell they fucked up the procedure.

I was standing there, just dumbfounded about what was going on in front of me. Where was all this bleeding coming from?!

I looked at the attending surgeon's eyes. All I could see was complete focus and determination. His eyes said it all… "Don't die on me!" And as they anxiously tried to remedy the situation, the heart monitor suddenly does that thing where it just beeps a long flat line…

Yup. They're screwed.

* * *

I wake up startled.

Okay… not completely startled. Um… you know the feeling of a sudden wakeup call? The one where in your dream, you're just walking down a road and suddenly, you stumble, and before you hit the ground and feel the concrete slapping your face, you suddenly wake up…? Yeah. That's pretty much how my day all started.

I blink the sleep from my eyes, and try to get my bearings right. I look up to almost blinding light… which is odd, considering that I never open the drapes in my bedroom. As I squint to adjust my sight to the brightness, I realized that I'm not in my bedroom. I'm in the living room. I fell asleep on the living room couch.

Huh… I must have been pretty wasted last night to not bother going up to my bedroom.

As I get up, I notice something else… I'm naked.

Well, truth be told, going to sleep in the buff is nothing new to me. There were even a number of mornings when I got up naked and sometimes, I'm not even in my own house.

But waking up in my own house completely naked only means one thing… I must have brought someone home with me last night. And as I scan the surroundings, my notions were confirmed. There, sprawled on my hardwood living room floor, was a man.

Without a second thought, I took the blanket covering him, exposing his all too naked back and all too delicious ass, and wrapped it around my shoulders, covering my exposed form. As I stood up from the couch, I grabbed one of the throw pillows, seriously deliberating if I should stop ogling, and plopped it on top of the man's all to firm and mouth watering butt.

This jostles him awake and I quickly grabbed whatever piece of my clothing I could find that was lying on the floor.

As I tried to tip toe towards the stairs, the man raised up his hand… with my underwear dangling from his fingers.

"This is…" he mumbles sleepily, as he offered me my now obvious choice of undergarments.

"…humiliating in so many levels." I supplied as I grabbed my pants from him. "You have to go."

He turns to sit up and stretches on the floor. I feel his gaze following my movements. "Why don't you just come back down here and we'll pick up where we left off?"

Wow. He's such a tease. And so early in the morning too…

I considered his offer in my head as I tossed him his pants. But alas… I have other things to worry about.

"No. Seriously. You have to go." I said nonchalantly while watching him put on his pants. "I'm late. Which isn't what you want to be on your first day of work." I explained.

I took a good look at the guy I brought home with me. He's about nearly my height… must be an inch or two taller than me, but height doesn't really matter to me anyways, because looking at his face closely, I'm not surprised that I brought him home after a few rounds of tequila at the bar… because he's way hot. His hair was blonde and he's built quite nicely; not overly buff… but not anyone you'd easily take down in a brawl.

He must have noticed my staring because he flashed me a toothy smile that made him look even more gorgeous, if that was even possible. I couldn't help but smile back at him.

He stood up and took a look around. "So, you actually live here?" he asks with a smile.

Seriously? Small talk?

"No…" I answer… but then again… I do live here… "Yes…" at the moment, at least… "Kind of…"

"Oh…" he nods, trying not to look so confused. "It's nice. Dusty… a lot… but it's nice." he supplied with that smile of his.

Seriously? Again with the small talk? Why don't you just dress up and go?! I'm gonna be late for my first day of work if I hadn't already made that clear already.

We just stood there trying to adjust to the awkwardness now beginning to be apparent to the both of us… nodding and smiling and being completely awkward.

He looks around again trying to take it all in. "How do you 'kind of' live here?" he asks, still working on the zipper of his jeans.

More small talk… great!

"I moved two weeks ago from Boston… it was my father's house. I'm selling it." I explained just to get it out there.

"Oh, I'm sorry…" he replies, now done fastening his belt.

Sorry? "For what?" I asked. To this, he looks up at me with concern. Did I just say that out loud?

"You said 'was'…" he replied.

Oh… he thinks… "O-Oh. My father's not dead. He's…" I cut myself short. No more small talk. "…y-you know what? We don't have to do the 'thing'." I brushed off.

"Oh… well, we can do whatever you want." He suggests as he reached for his shirt hanging off the back of the couch flashing me with that smile of his. Why are you still flirting with me?

Maybe I wasn't very clear… or maybe he's still groggy with sleep. "No. The thing. We exchange the details… pretend we care…" I trailed off.

He just smiles at me with playful realization in his eyes as he puts on his shirt. Yeah… he gets what I'm talking about. But this has gone on long enough… I'm late. Fuck!

"Look. I'm gonna go upstairs and take a shower. Okay?" I smile at him.

Wait… Why am I smiling too?! Fuck! His smiling is contagious! I need to get away from this hot piece of hunk pie ASAP before his flirting gets the better of me.

"…a-and when I get back down here, you won't be here." I finished with a nervous laugh. "S-So… goodbye… um…uh…" I trailed off hoping that this will be the end of it.

"Steve." he answers as he finished buttoning up his shirt and offers me his hand.

Wait… I just said we weren't gonna do the thing! Why in the fuck would you go and introduce yourself?!

Well, I'm not the kind of person who leaves a guy hanging like that after he offers me his hand for a handshake. Especially not after the raunchy adventures we supposedly had together last night under the influence of too much alcohol.

"Steve. Right…" I shook his hand and "Tony." I laughed.

What the fuck did I just do? What in the fucking fuck did I just do?!

"Tony..." he smiled, not letting go of my hand, as he came around from the other side of the couch trying to get closer to me. "…nice meeting you."

God, he's got a nice firm grip. And his hands are really nice… and I'm getting reeled in by his charm again. Get your head out of the clouds. First day of work today, remember?

I reluctantly let go of his hand and slowly backed away from him towards the stairs stifling a giggle. "Bye, Steve." I chuckled as I took the steps up toward the bathroom.

As I stepped through the bathroom door, I heard the front door close. I locked myself in the shower, ignoring the cold water raining down on me and trying to forget how giddy I was a while ago with Steve. I need to get ready. I'm late as fuck.

After I showered, I put on a clean-smelling shirt I fished from the hamper, put on the jeans I had on last night (which I found near the foot of the couch), grabbed my keys, and headed off to my first day on the job.

"Well, this day is really off to a good start." I mumbled sarcastically as I brought my car to life and drove off the driveway and into the busy morning traffic of Seattle.


	2. Part 2

To those who have already read the first version of this chapter:

I apologize, but i had to make some character changes so I can write about my favourite pairings while not killing one of them off throughout the course of this fanfic...

Hopefully, I get far enough into writing this fanfic to start writing about my other fave pairings.

Please enjoy reading.

* * *

The drive was uneventful, as I drove towards my destination. Nothing much has changed since the last time I was here in Seattle. The city's still surrounded by bodies of water on three sides, ferry boats still glide across the bay carrying passengers heading towards their jobs, and Seattle's signature landmark is still standing there with its revolving platform giving everyone a 360-degree view of the cityscape.

Yup. Nothing much has changed… except maybe for me.

I push all of my thoughts aside as I grab a slot in the parking lot and headed off towards the reception area. I find out that orientation's already started without me and I was told to head to the third floor of the West Wing to catch up.

On the third floor? What the fuck is on the third floor that the orientation had to move there…? Could it be…?

I headed to the nearest stair case at a run and took the steps two at a time. As I busted through the doors leading to the third floor, I caught a glimpse of a group of people passing through a set of double doors at the end of the corridor. I followed suit while trying to steady my uneven breathing that resulted from my trek up the stairs. As I pushed through the double doors, I made my way towards the back of the group, right behind this red-headed girl tip-toeing to get a better glimpse of the person speaking up front.

Hey, this red-head is hot…

"Each of you here comes in today hopeful, wanting in on the game." the person up front says in a calm yet commanding voice that carries even to where I stood.

I copied the red-head's actions and tip-toed to see who was leading this group of new recruits. Up front, addressing the crowd was a bald dude old enough to be my dad. And I'd know that eye patch anywhere you'd put it… but I never would have guessed that the Chief of Surgery would be leading the orientation, let alone a guided tour.

Dr. Nick Fury, as I recall, was not someone who'd do grunt work like this. He's the kind of doctor who was take charge and all. And if you managed to piss him off someway, his mouth would run off and you'd be called "motherfucker" or some other cuss word while being glared at by his one good eye, which no one actually knows how he managed to fuck up the other one.

He was standing before another set of doors leading towards some room. He addressed the crowd in his commanding voice "A month ago, you motherfuckers were in Med School being taught by doctors…" he opens the doors and reaches inside to flick a switch. He walks in and heads towards the center of the room and turns back to us and continues his tirade "…today, you are the doctors."

I laugh to myself. "Motherfucker this. Motherfucker that." Yep! Same old Nick Fury.

I follow the crowd and walked into an operating room. An honest to goodness operating room, complete with an operating table; an overhead surgical lamp; scrub sinks beyond a glass window, situated on the other side of the room; trays and shelves of medical equipment; and even a viewing deck for the students overlooking the entire scene.

I felt excited. Completely giddy with utter excitement. So this is what it feels like for a kid to be let loose in a toy store. Mind you, I've seldom been let loose in a toy store in my childhood days, but this comes close to that feeling.

I walked around the room, trying to absorb everything in. And I couldn't wipe the smile slowly spreading on my face as reality began to sink in… 'I'm actually here!' I thought.

Arms crossed, Dr. Fury continued to speak, "The seven years you spend here as a surgical resident will be the best and worst of your life. You motherfuckers will be pushed to the breaking point."He then looks at each of us with his one good eye, as if sizing us up. "Look around you, motherfuckers. Say hello to your competition." At this, everyone started to look at the other doctors in the room, sizing up the competition. I looked around as well.

There's a mousy looking girl that looks like she'll faint at the first sight of an open trauma. There's another guy looking all smug and full of himself as he darted his eyes all over the room. Then there was the red-head, looking like she's ready to take one of the doctors down any minute.

"Eight of you will switch to an easier specialty," Dr. Fury stated. "Five will crack under the pressure. Two of you will be asked to leave." he continued. "This is your starting line. This is your arena." as he motioned around the room "How well you play, that's up to you motherfuckers."

I glanced up to Dr. Fury, and there was this focused look on his eye. And that was the only confirmation I needed.

The Game is on.

Like I said… I'm screwed.

* * *

After the heartwarming welcome personally given to us by the Chief of Surgery, all of us new doctors were directed towards the locker rooms. Once there, we were told who our assigned resident would be for the duration of our intern year while a resident handed out our new scrubs as well as our white coats and hospital badges. I looked at my badge with a bit of awe and stared at my name that was printed on the plastic. 'Dr. Anthony Stark, M.D.'

But that feeling of awe soon vanished as I entered the locker rooms and I was engulfed in the smell of what seemed to be a mixture of antiseptic, sweaty gym socks, and some sort of rotting fruit. I'd have to endure this awful stench my intern year?

Seriously?!

I snap out of my reverie when people started shoving in and started claiming empty lockers. I claimed the nearest available one and shoved all of my stuff inside. I began stripping and changed into my new baby blue scrubs. I balled up my clothes and chucked them inside the locker and slammed the door shut. I put on my white coat and sat down on one of the benches to tie on my running shoes.

Yes. We were advised before hand to wear running shoes. Since we'll be doing a whole lot of running from now on... Whoop-dee-doo.

As I looked up, I noticed the red-head girl from before shutting the locker door beside mine.

Lucky me. Maybe I can do a bit of flirting before we go meet our resident.

"So you must be the model I heard about?" I say as casually as I could. Be smooth Stark. Be smooth.

The girl just looked at me with annoyance and scoffed as she began stuffing her boots into her locker.

"S-So… you're not the model?" Oops… My bad. I thought for sure she'd be the one. No other intern here looks steaming hot like her, with her red hair and slender physique, even in scrubs. But she didn't seem to be pissed off at my comment, so it must mean she took it at some form of complement.

She turned to me with a smirk "Seriously, that's gonna help with the 'respect' thing?" as she rolled her eyes.

Wow. So there's another hot thing somewhere in here and I haven't noticed yet? Man, I'm losing my touch! I wonder where Dr. Model, M.D. is at?

I stood up, as I placed my stethoscope around my neck, and took a tentative step next to her. "You're Natasha, right?" I ask.

She just nods her head in confirmation as she starts to straighten up her coat and put her hair up. "Which resident are you assigned to?" she inquires from me. "I got Banner."

Well, at least I haven't fucked up any form of interaction with Natasha, which is nice. "The Hulk? Me too."

"You got the Hulk? So did I." Someone chirped in from one of the lockers near our end.

'I didn't ask for a cock block, but real great timing...' I mentally curse at the other intern that managed to worm his way into Natasha and I's conversation. I just smirked in his direction while Natasha just rolled her eyes in indifference.

"…at least we'll be tortured together, right?" he laughed uncomfortably. "I'm Clint… Barton." he introduced himself unaware of our obvious discomfort. "We met at the mixer…" he continued.

Clint was, in the kindest way possible, tongue-tied. He got flustered by Natasha all too easily… maybe because he started babbling nervously as we stood there "…you had on that black dress with the slit on the side and those strappy sandals and…" he said nervously to Natasha.

Natasha and I just shared a knowing look. Clint must have caught on because he paused and awkwardly mumbled "Now you think I'm gay…" and started defending himself and his actions. "I-I'm not gay… it's just that, you were really unforgettable, and…" he trailed off as Natasha just put on a sort of smile for the poor guy when a resident started calling out names.

"Barton, Romanov, Stark, van Dyne."

Natasha got to him first. "Banner?" she shrugged toward the resident.

"End of the hall" he quipped and pointed towards the nurses' station. As we started making our way towards our assigned resident, Natasha thought out loud, "That's the Hulk?"

I took a good look at our resident. He doesn't look anything like a great green smash monster that'll throttle you into nonexistence like I imagined. He looked a bit like me… but more like one of those nerdy professors that spent most of their time in research labs, forced to teach a course in college, and didn't want to interact with the students and left most or all of the work to the teaching assistant. "I thought the Hulk would look less like a pushover..." Clint chimed in.

"I thought the Hulk would be more like… THE Hulk," I supposed.

"Maybe it's professional jealousy?" said by a voice from behind Bruce as she made her way in front of us leading the way. "Maybe he's a brilliant doctor and everyone else calls him that because they're jealous of him. Maybe he's nice." she finished.

Natasha and I stared. Whoa. This doctor was way hot… like, Norwegian super model hot. I could see how her scrubs clung onto her well shaped body in all the right, delicious places… and how her brown hair framed her face.

While I drooled over Dr. Model over here, Natasha, being who she was, scoffed. "Let me guess, you're the model?" She turned towards her, with an annoyed expression, before tapping Dr. Banner on the shoulder and introducing herself "Hello, Dr. Banner. My name is Janet… van Dyne." as she offers him her hand with a nervous smile.

Dr. Banner turns to stare at Janet's hand as if it was some sort of biomedical waste that needed to be thrown out and looked at each one of us, with a stern expression on his face. Janet quietly put her hand down. And in an irritated tone, Dr. Banner began his tirade. "I have five rules. Memorize them." He looked at us severely, "Rule number one, don't bother sucking up. I already hate you. That's not gonna change." as he turned away to sign a chart from the nurses' station. "Trauma protocol, phone lists, pagers." as he pointed at the objects beside him. "The nurses will page you and you answer your pages at a run…" he instructed as he shoved past Clint and Natasha and started walking towards the end of the hall. "…A RUN! That's rule number two!"

We just stood there looking confused, when the nurse at the station cleared her throat, motioned at the things on the table, and pointed at Dr. Banner, already half way down the hall.

"I think I know why everyone calls him The Hulk…" Clint whispers to me. I tried to shrug off his comment as I grabbed a pager. "…I think he's got anger issues and could Hulk-out at any mo-" I left Clint with his thoughts as I hurried to catch up with the others.

Apparently, he didn't notice that we weren't following him as fast as we should have and was going on with his speech "…and your first shift starts now and lasts forty-eight hours…" double checking his watch as he spoke. "You're interns. Grunts. Nobodies. Bottom of the surgical food chain. You'll run labs, write orders, and work every second day and night until you drop AND DON'T COMPLAIN." He continued as we made our way through the halls of the hospital.

At one point, we reached a door in the middle of a hall. Dr. Banner opened it, flipped a switch inside and presented a small room. "On-Call Rooms" he announced. "Attendings hog them, so sleep when you can, where you can..." We took a look around inside these so-called on-call rooms. The walls are lined with various posters, blinds on the only window, and two sets of bunk beds. Oh, and it smelled like blood, sweat, and sex.

I'm beginning to think that sleep isn't the only thing that happens in here… which kinda made me excited in a naughty, raunchy way. Getting it on with another doctor and playing patient has always been a fantasy of mine…

But my thoughts were interrupted by Dr. Banner who continued to rant "…which brings us to rule number three. If I'm sleeping, DON'T WAKE ME, unless the patient is actually dying."

Mental note. Never Ever try to wake Dr. Banner and unleash the Hulk. Got it.

"Rule number four," he continues "the dying patient better not be dead when I get there…" he pauses and looks at us like we're all idiots. "…not only will you have killed somebody, but you would have woken me up for no good reason. Are we clear?" he asks every one of us, waiting for any stupid questions that we might have.

I tentatively raise my hand and he just looks at me, bored. "You said five rules. That was only four." I stated.

As if on cue, his pager begins beeping.

The bored look on Dr. Banner's face disappeared and was replaced with a look of sudden urgency. "Rule number five. When I move, you move." as he ran off towards another hallway, while yelling at some by standing doctors to get out of the way.

Well… better not break rule number five on my very first day as a doctor.


	3. Part 3

Chapter Three is posted.

Took me a while to write this one... so please be patient about updates. I want to make sure that these stories are checked properly by doing some research on some medical jargon and stuff...

I also had to change the story's category from "Movie: Avengers" to "Comic: Avengers", as I needed to use characters from the comics and cartoon show since i had a lack of characters to play the doctors.

Patient's names are taken directly from _Grey's Anatomy_ series (no copyright infringement intended).

Please enjoy!

* * *

Dr. Banner led us to the roof deck of the hospital just in time to see a medic helicopter slowly descending onto its designated landing area.

Rolling a gurney along as we ran, we headed towards the helipad and stopped short of the landing pad. We turned our faces away from the gust of the landing chopper. When its wheels hit the concrete landing, we hurried over to receive the emergent patient.

The poor guy must already be in critical condition to be brought over to the hospital in a medic helicopter.

I know I shouldn't be giddy in this kind of situation… I mean, someone in that helicopter is actually dying… but the excitement of handling my very first hospital case made the adrenaline surge throughout my body.

I hope there's at least bucket-loads of blood.

Even as the blades of the chopper spun rapidly overhead, we rolled the gurney over to the doors. A paramedic climbed out the helicopter and rolled out the patient onto the waiting stretcher while another briefed Dr. Banner of the patient's condition. I had a hard time hearing the paramedic's words over the whirring of the helicopter's blades but I did manage to get the patient's name. A teenage girl named Katie Bryce.

Turns out, there weren't any bucket-loads of blood as I hoped there would be… kind of a letdown, but there are more pressing matters to attend to.

Looking closely at Katie, she seemed to be passed out, her eyes rolled up in their sockets. But she was jerking every which way like she was being electrocuted.

Our first patient was having seizures.

We rushed Katie into the hospital. As soon as we got her into a room, Dr. Banner started giving out orders, "Alright! Roll her over to her side…" he said, pointing to me. As he gave the other doctors orders, Janet handed me a syringe of whatever Dr. Banner told her to prep then barked at Hank to get a large bore I.V., "…don't let the blood haemolyse," he stated. I injected the patient with the drug and her jerking movements eased and she gradually relaxed.

As soon as we got the seizing under control, another doctor came in to assess the situation.

"I heard like we have a fish out of water," he said to Dr. Banner.

"Absolutely, Dr. Coulson." he responded while handing over the patient's chart.

I looked at him for a moment. Unlike Dr. Banner, who also wore the same baby blue scrubs like mine, he wore navy blue scrubs under the white coat. No doubt that Dr. Coulson was an attending surgeon.

Dr. Coulson looked at our handiwork, and seeing nothing wrong, patted Dr. Banner on the back. "Dr. Banner, I'm gonna shotgun her." he commented.

Dr. Banner gave a small nod as Dr. Coulson left the scene and turned to us and started to give out more orders, "That means every test in the book. CT, CBC, chem. seven, tux screen…" as he jotted down on Katie's chart.

"Natasha, you're on labs," as he handed over Katie's chart to her, "Hank, you're on patient work ups," pointing at Hank who finished hooking Katie to an IV, "Tony, get Katie for a CT." pointing to me. "She's your responsibility now." he added.

I gulped as I looked down on the unconscious teenager on the bed.

Can somebody else be responsible for her? I don't want to be stuck on seizure patrol my entire shift….! I want to be in on cool surgeries! Not babysit.

"Wait, what about me?" Janet inquired in her petite voice as Dr. Banner turned to leave.

Dr. Banner looked back at Janet. With a hint of a smile, he said "Honey, you get to do rectal exams." leaving her with a look of disappointed shock on her face.

I felt bad for Janet for getting stuck with performing rectal exams the whole day. And I fear for her down there all by her own little self as. Patients might think that this beauty is the nurse and not a doctor that's about to stick her fingers up their butts.

But I can't stand here all day feeling sort of sorry for her. I need to get my patient up for a CT… wherever that is.

* * *

The elevator doors open again. This time, I am hoping I am on the right floor as I begin to push the hospital bed out the doors and off the elevator. I'm beginning to think that not asking for directions at the nurse's station was a bad idea… but I've been here before. I just need to unearth that information from the recesses of my brain. Hopefully, sometime soon.

"You're lost." a girl taunted.

Me? Lost? No way.

I look at the girl lying on the bed with an annoyed expression. "I'm not lost." I retort as I look around to see if anyone was around. Bad luck. The floor was empty… save for me and my patient.

"How are you feeling sunshine?" I inquired as I slowly begin pushing the bed towards the end of an empty hallway.

"How do you think I'm feeling?" Katie replies in an exasperated tone. "I'm missing my pageant."

"You're missing your pageant?" I asked, trying to be empathic, as I turned right at the end of the hall.

"The Spokane Teen Miss?" she began, "I was in the top ten after the first two rounds… This is my year. I could've won!" she explained it to me like it was the best thing in the world.

I just nodded at her words as I tried to remember my way towards CT. Noticing that I turned into a dead end; I quickly turned the bed around and headed towards the other direction.

Katie sat up at the change in direction and looked at me mockingly, "You're SO lost. What are you, like, new?"

I tried to ignore her jibe.

Yes. As a matter of fact, Katie, I am new. You just don't need to know that, Little Miss Beauty Queen.

"So, what happened to you gumdrop?" I asked, just so I can take the subject off of the fact that I am lost, and that I might be actually pushing her bed towards the morgue…

"Well, I twisted my ankle during talent rehearsal," she stated. "I do rhythmic gymnastics, which is, like, really cool…"

Really? Rhythmic gymnastics? You consider that a talent?

I pretended like I was interested and nodded, as she continued, "…nobody else does it. And I tripped over my ribbon during practice and…" she paused, propped herself on her elbows, and with a bored expression "…I didn't get stuck with someone this clueless… and that was like, a nurse."

Seriously?!

I just rolled my eyes and tried in vain to hide my irritation. Now, I'm seriously wishing that this hallway does lead to the morgue.


	4. Part 4

Chapter Four is now up.

I apologize for making you wait... but i had job interviews to go to.

Enjoy!

* * *

It has been almost seven hours since I started this intern job, and the enthusiasm I had earlier today is slowly fading. After what seemed like an eternity finding CT, I finally managed to have Katie admitted for scanning and hopefully, I wouldn't have to go see her until I have to pick her up once she's done.

So far, I'm not liking Miss Rhythmic Gymnastics. Not one bit.

Since I had a bit of free time on my hands, the least I could do is grab a bit of food to keep me moving. I started my trek towards the cafeteria, leaving Katie in the hands of the CT nurses.

While I was in line to pay for my food, I noticed my fellow interns already eating at a nearby table. Clint and Janet looked exhausted, while Natasha pored over a textbook, highlighter in hand, looking bored. Clint was stuffing his face with a sandwich as I heard him encouraging Janet to have something to eat, mentioning that, "…this shift is a marathon, not a sprint." Janet was just sitting there with her eyes closed, looking squeamish and mumbled "I can't."

"You try eating after performing seventeen rectal exams. The Hulk hates me," Janet groaned over her soda.

"So, it's 'The Hulk' now? What happened to 'professional jealousy'?" Natasha teased.

"Shut up…" Janet hissed.

"The Hulk is a resident. I have attendings hating me." Clint mentioned.

"Why? What happened?" Janet asked, curiosity evident in her tiny voice.

Clint started telling them how he couldn't hook up Dr. Coulson's patient to an IV because he had junky veins. When Dr. Coulson took over for him, he jokingly mentioned that "…I bet you missed a lot when you first started out, huh?"

No wonder you have attendings hating on you, Barton. You don't say that sort of thing about your attending surgeon. Ever.

"…then he just gritted his teeth at me and said 'you and I are gonna have so much fun together.'" Clint gulped nervously.

Natasha, who appeared to be getting bored with the conversation – or rather, Clint's whining – shut her book and casually mentioned "Did you know that Tony is inbred?"

Uh-oh… they're talking about me now.

I tried following their conversation as I slowly got up to the cash register.

"Like it's uncommon around here to be a doctor's-" Clint said with a mouthful of potatoes.

"No, I mean royally inbred," Natasha cut off. "His father is Howard Stark." she stated.

Oh boy. They're not talking about me… they're talking about my father. Why can't this line move any faster…?!

"Shut up! THE Howard Stark?" asked Janet, amazed, as she leaned in closer to the table while Natasha nodded "uh-huh" with enthusiasm.

"Who's Howard Stark?" Clint asked as he sipped some soda.

Both women looked at Clint dumbfounded.

"The Stark Method? Where did you go to med school, Mexico?" Natasha blurts with a laugh.

"He practically invented the abdominal-" Janet tried to add but was cut off again by Natasha, "He's a living legend! He won the Charles Xavier, twice!"

"So I didn't know one thing!" Clint protested as he took another bite from his sandwich.

I finally made it to the register and paid for my meal. I turned around and headed for the table Janet, Clint, and Natasha were sharing.

I heard Janet mumble as I began to walk over, "Talk about parental pressure…" with a saddened tone to her voice.

"I'd kill to have Howard Stark as a father…" Natasha sighed. "I'd kill to be Howard Stark."

Okay… time to change the subject now.

I made my way to an empty seat across from Clint as I plopped my tray onto the table. I grabbed a few fries and took an angry mouthful while I turned to my fellow interns.

"Katie Bryce is a pain in the ass," I complained. "If I hadn't taken the Hippocratic Oath, I'd Kevorkian that priss with my bare hands!" taking another mouthful of fries as I finished.

The other interns stared at me like I had some blood on my face.

"What?!" I retorted.

Everyone shook their heads and returned to their own business. As I started on my food, Dr. Coulson came from behind and paused at our table.

"Good afternoon, interns." He spoke with a humored look on his face. "It's posted, but I thought I'd share the good news personally."

Everyone at the table sat up straight, all attention focused on Dr. Coulson.

"As you know, the honor of performing the first surgery is reserved for the intern that shows most promise," he said as he looked around the table. Janet turned in her seat to face Dr. Coulson directly. Clint forgot chewing his food when Dr. Coulson placed a hand on the back of his seat, nervousness slowly creeping up his face. Natasha closed her book again and leaned in towards our attending, excitement evident on her face. Even I stopped stabbing the food with my fork as I waited for him to continue.

"As I'm running the OR today, I get to make that choice," clapping Clint on the back. "Clint Barton. You'll scrub in for an appendectomy this afternoon."

Our eyes, trained on Dr. Coulson, soon found their way to Clint. All looks of hope soon turned to looks of envy. Clint swallowed hard, "Me..?" he mumbled as the realization hit him. Dr. Coulson, with a hint of a smirk, said "Congratulations" as he left our table to tend to his other patients.

I'd give anything to scrub in on a surgery; even if it was an appy… it's still a shot at performing surgery, which is what I've wanted to do since changing into my scrubs this morning. But that honor went to Clint Barton, who looked like he was going to shit his pants at any moment.

"Did he say me?" Clint asked like he couldn't believe what had just happened.

Janet began picking at her food, all traces of squeamishness gone; while Natasha went back to studying, her lips pursed in irritation.

I went back to stabbing my food, this time, with more force than intended.


	5. Part 5

Hello everybody! Here's Chapter Five.

Please be advised that I shuffled some of the characters... so if you have any confusion, might i suggest going back to at least chapter two...

I apologize for that.

But I'll stop blabbering about that and let you enjoy the story. :)

* * *

I got a page notifying me that Katie Bryce is done with her CT. I was in no hurry to pick up Miss Beauty Queen Wannabe but The Hulk left me in charge of the brat, so I had no choice but to hurry to her side and take her back to her room.

When I got there, I found her passed out on her bed. I checked on her vitals and was informed by a nurse that she had to be sedated during the CT scan.

Well, things are looking up for me today. At least I don't have to deal with a bratty teenager undermining my sense of direction. Good thing too… because I wasn't in any mood to pretend to be her babysitter, after losing out on a surgery.

I pushed her back to her room in relative peace. Once she was safely hooked to the hospital monitors, I went back to the nurse's station to claim her charts to be updated. As I flipped through Katie's chart at the station, I caught the tail end of the conversation Dr. Banner was having with Dr. Coulson.

"…Hank Pym barely made the cut into this program," he said.

"Oh, he's my guy alright," confirmed Dr. Coulson.

I looked over to the both of them at the other end of the nurse's station. Apparently, they didn't notice me standing opposite them, too busy talking about Hank. I returned to updating the chart as I listened in on their argument.

I know it's morally wrong to listen in on other people's conversation. But, hey! They were talking about Hank and why he should not be given that surgery. I wanted in on that!

Dr. Banner scoffed. "Every year, you pick your guy, and every year, your guy suffers more than any other intern on surgery."

"Terrorize one, and the rest fall in line." I heard Dr. Coulson respond as he turned towards another hallway. You could actually hear a bit of malice in his voice.

Dr. Banner became a bit exasperated at his response. "I get it. I respect it. But Hank?" he complained as he slammed a patient's chart shut with irritation and followed suit. "Pym's a puppy. He won't be able to take the pressure…"

I wasn't able to hear the rest of what Dr. Banner was saying about Hank being a puppy because, as of that moment, a couple hurriedly rushed passed them and the woman inquired from a nearby nurse "Katie Bryce? 3604?"

I looked up from Katie's chart and searched for the woman looking for my patient. I saw the couple hastily walking towards 3604 and I followed them, taking Katie's chart with me, as I prepared to face who I assumed would be her parents.

When I entered Katie's room, her parents were already by the head of her bed. Her mom stroking her hair as she whispered, "Katie, honey? Mom and dad are here…"

Katie's parents turned to me when they noticed me standing there. Her mom looked at me with a worried expression. The same kind of expression parents get when they see their babies get hurt… the kind of expression that I barely knew.

I could read it on her face: 'What's going on? Why is she asleep?'

"They gave her a sedative for the CT scan, so she's a little groggy." I explained.

The mom's face relaxed a bit at that, but the worry was far from gone on her expression. "Will she be alright?"

I took a breath before I tried to respond, not really being sure how to go about explaining to Katie's parents her situation… but before I could answer the mom's question, Katie's dad cut me off with a question of his own: "Our doctor at home said she might need an operation. Is that true?"

I hadn't noticed that I was slowly backing out of the room, as if I'm backing away from imminent danger. Really, they've barely asked me two things but I am already having trouble forming my words, only wanting to flee from where I stood.

"She's, um… well…" I began as I tried to clarify what was going on to Katie's parents… but then, paused. I figured that I might screw this up and get an earful from my resident, or worse, my attending. It would be best to direct the parents' questions to Dr. Banner or to Dr. Coulson, if I could get a hold of him.

I took another breath, and continued talking to Katie's parents. "You know … I'm not, I'm not the doctor…"

What?! I am Katie's doctor. Well… sort of…

The confused expression on both Katie's parents made my situation a lot whole lot worse that it should have been.

Nice going Stark! Fix this. NOW.

"I-I am a doctor… but I'm not Katie's doctor." I explained. "So, I'll go get him for you."

Katie's father only nodded at my blabbering.

Nice save, Stark. Now go look for Banner. Hurry!

The awkwardness in room 3604 was so thick; you could cut it with a scalpel. Well, most of the awkwardness was my own doing so I couldn't blame the parents if they thought I looked like I didn't really know what I was doing.

I turned to go get Dr. Banner, and I felt like my feet couldn't get me out of there fast enough.

* * *

I quickly walked through the hall, trying to find Dr. Banner. I bumped into him when I opened the door at the end, leading towards the lobby. I glanced at him, as I tried to catch my breath.

"What?" he asked; irritation evident in his voice.

"Katie's parents have questions." I explained. "Should you go talk to them, or should I ask Coulson?"

He looked thoughtful for a bit. "Uh, no. Coulson's off the case." He turned around, and scanned the area. "Katie belongs to the new attending now, Dr. Rogers," he said as he patted me on the arm. "He's over there." He pointed towards another doctor out in the lobby. I followed the direction of where Banner pointed me to and took a few steps in that direction as I looked for Dr. Rogers.

Then it happened.

I was looking at short blond hair, perfectly built body, and overly toothy smile. And I saw all of that (and then some) just this morning!

Oh no. No. No, no, no, no, NO! It can't be! Not him…! Not Steve!

I stopped dead in my tracks as my eyes widened at the sight of him. My breathing became faster and my pulse began racing. I can actually feel the adrenaline rushing through my blood vessels as I experienced the Fight-or-Flight response.

Then, just for a moment, he looked up and glanced my way.

Oh. My. Glob.

Please… Please… PLEASE! Please, tell me that he didn't see me…!

No dice! He doubles back and stares right at me, his smile widening.

FUCK ME!

I turned away and hurried towards the door, hoping to high heavens that it's not his stare that I'm feeling, following me as I ran towards the other direction.


	6. Part 6

Hello everyone. Chapter six is up!

Hope you've enjoyed the previous parts and like this endeavor so far...

Anyways, please enjoy reading.

* * *

I ran past doors, doors, and more doors, trying my best to put as much distance between me and Dr. Rogers.

Seriously?!

Steve is my new attending?! I thought I would be seeing the last of his cute butt this morning as I threw him out of my house. And we're now working together in the same hospital?!

Seriously?!

Granted that he's sizzling hot, and I wouldn't mind another round with him between the sheets given the chance. Because, seriously, who wouldn't?

Despite being sloshed last night, I can still remember his touch, firm yet gentle, and the way his fingertips sent fireworks go off in places he caressed; his kisses were so deep and full of longing and pent up desire; and the way he held me close to him as we rocked together, back and forth, towards our completion.

But if I had known that he's my new boss, I would have skipped over him in a heartbeat, no matter how drunk I was on tequila.

These memories sent tingles up and down my spine and I shook my head vigorously, as I tried to rid my mind of what transpired between Steve and me last night.

As I turned a corner, making a beeline for the stairwell as I tried to figure out where I could hide out for the rest of my career, I felt someone grab my arm and started dragging me towards the same door I planned on running into.

Once in the privacy of the stairwell, the grip on my arm loosened and I was face to face with last night's conquest and today's new attending.

"Dr. Rogers-" I began while simultaneously looking around the stairwell to see if we were actually alone in there.

"Dr. Rogers?" he interrupted as he looked at me with humored surprise. "This morning it was Steve. Now it's Dr. Rogers." he teased as he put his hands on his waist.

I looked at him with anxiety clouding my face, completely nervous as the fact that I slept with my attending started sinking in.

Take note that sleeping with him wasn't at all a bad thing. Having said that, I'd like to jump his bones at this very moment… take his coat off and rip those navy blue scrubs off of him and just devour him in the stairwell… but this could seriously cause me some trouble down the line if anybody found out about our illicit one time affair.

"Dr. Rogers, we should pretend it never happened." I suggested as I tried to calm myself.

"What never happened," he asked. "you sleeping with me last night? Or you throwing me out this morning? Because both are fond memories I'd like to keep." he smiled as he leaned in a bit closer to me.

Why are you flirting with me at a time like this?! Granted, I don't mind the flirting. I really like it actually... and I'd like nothing more than to keep flirting with you. But this is going to jeopardize both of our medical careers if you hadn't bothered to notice.

I stood my ground.

"No. There will be no memories." I argued, shaking my head. "I'm not the drunk at the bar anymore, and you're not the guy. This cannot exist!" I asserted. "You get that, right?"

I held my breath, waiting for his response.

He nodded.

Thank Gob! He's getting it!

I let out the breath I was holding in and started to relax, and then…

"You took advantage of me and now you want to forget about it," he accused.

What?! No! Well… maybe… yeah… but he doesn't need to know that!

"I did not take-" I countered, but he just talked over me.

"I was drunk, vulnerable, and good-looking and you took advantage." He explained.

Glob! How thick could you get?!

I smiled. "Okay, I was the one who was drunk. And you were not that good looking…"

"Well maybe no today," he joked. "But last night, last night I was very good looking." as he leaned in a bit more towards me. "I had my red shirt on, my good-looking shirt. You took advantage." He chided.

Okay. You're having a ball flirting with me, aren't you Dr. Rogers?

"I did not take…" I sighed again exasperatedly.

"Would you like to take advantage again? Say Friday night?" he asked with that godforsaken smile of his.

What? Are you for real?

I stared at him blankly, waiting for the punch line to work its way in.

Apparently, there wasn't any punch line. He was completely being serious.

YES!

Hell Yes!

The prospect of you pounding into me again sounds real inviting. But…

"No. You're an attending. And I'm your intern." I pointed out.

Steve just stared at me with a look on his eyes… the same kind of look he used on me at the bar last night, like he was slowly undressing me with his eyes.

"Stop looking at me like that!" I snapped.

"Like what?" feigning innocence.

I can't believe this guy! Are you that desperate to get into my pants again… not that I blame you or anything. I am just that desirable.

"Like you've seen me naked." I snapped again.

Steve just smiled at that remark. He tried to lean in a bit more into me, but I backed away.

"Dr. Rogers," I warned, as I looked at him in the eyes, "this is inappropriate. Did that ever occur to you?"

He looked like I just burst his bubble.

I turned away from him, leaving him with his thoughts, as I turned the door handle and went out into the hall.

Before the door had closed, I heard Steve let out a disappointed sigh.

I couldn't help letting a quiet one out myself as I walked towards the operating room gallery to watch Hank perform his appendectomy.

* * *

The viewing gallery was buzzing with activity when I got there and all of the other interns were already vying for Hank's outcome. I sat at the front row, right in behind the viewing glass window. Below, I could already see Hank pacing, looking very pale and nervous, his back turned against the scrub room looking at the patient being prepped on the operating table, as he mumbled the steps to an open appendectomy under his breath.

No matter how envious I was with Hank for being picked to scrub in on this surgery, I would still feel the same way if I was in his shoes… anxious and scared under the glare of the operating lamp and the gaze of the other envious interns.

Everyone in the viewing gallery was already jeering on Hank as he turned even paler under the lights, if that was even possible.

"He's gonna faint. He's a fainter."

"Nah… code brown, right in his pants."

"He's all about the flops…"

"…he's gonna sweat himself unsterile."

And then, the betting started on the surgery's outcome. "Ten bucks says he messes up the McBird…"

"Twenty says he cries," countered Natasha as she took an available seat in the row behind me.

Et tu, Natasha?

"I'll put twenty on a total meltdown," another intern offered.

Seriously?! You're betting on bad outcomes? This is all getting irritating. You're ganging up on a fellow doctor…

"Fifty says he pulls the whole thing off." I snapped at no one in particular, my eyes trained on Hank in the operating room.

The room suddenly became quiet at my outburst. I turned my head around to find that everyone started staring at me in disbelief. Who could blame them? I'd be staring at myself with disbelief too if I could.

"He's one of us down there. The first one of us," I explained. "Where's your loyalty?"

Everyone shuffled in their seats uncomfortably as they settled to watch the operation about to begin.

I was beginning to think that what I said made a whole lot of sense to my fellow interns. What if they were in Hank's place down there? They wouldn't want the other doctors betting on their own surgery's outcomes, right?

…And then Natasha blurted out, "Seventy-five says he can't even ID the appendix."

"I'll take that action." Janet agreed taking the seat beside me as she took a bite from her energy bar.

This made the other interns laugh.

"Okay, Pym. Let's see what you can do." Dr. Coulson entered the operating room and walked towards Hank and they made their way towards the operating table. Everyone in the room became quiet, as we waited for Hank to begin with the surgery.

"Here it comes…" I whispered to myself, anxiously watching Hank, waiting for him to make the first move.

Hank breathed in to calm himself, looked over to the OR nurse, and, with confidence "Scalpel."

"Scalpel." the nurse acknowledged as she handed him the instrument.

Everyone in the gallery cheered when Hank took the scalpel from the nurse.

One small step for surgical interns, one giant leap for medical students!

Dr. Coulson looked up at us in the gallery and motioned for us to zip it. His glare made it clear that he wasn't playing around. Everyone shut up and shuffled in their seats once more, trying to get a better view of what was happening just a few feet below us.

Inside the operating room, Hank started cutting open the patient, beginning the appendectomy.

Hank took his time carefully doing the procedure he was tasked to perform. From where I was seated, he looked liked he had some troubles cutting through to the abdominal wall, but once past the peritoneum, he declared "I'm there!" and the other interns started groaning in defeat for losing their bets.

From behind me, an intern swore "Damn, he got the peritoneum, open. I'm out!"

"Told you, he's gonna do it," I chuckled.

Eventually, he managed to identify the swollen appendix, separate it from the large intestines, and remove it from the body. The moment he declared "appendix is out", we all cheered for him for a job well done. But this operation is far from over.

"Not bad…" Dr. Coulson commented as he looked over Hank's handiwork. "Now all you have to do is invert the stump into the secum, simultaneously pull up on the purse strings…" he instructed Hank. However, the nerves must have caught up to Hank at some point during this time, as I noticed that he was beginning to rush the procedure, trying to keep up with Dr. Coulson's instructions. I looked down at him and noticed his hands shaking.

Slow down, Hank! You're going too fast! You're gonna rip open the…

Snap!

While suturing the stump of the appendix into the large intestine, Hank pulled the sutures too tight and tore the secum, just as Dr. Coulson warned him to "…careful not to break them."

We all looked down now at Hank with horror and worry. Some of the interns gasped while some others chuckled out maliciously.

Oh, Glob!

"…you tore the secum. You've got a bleeder. It's filling with stool. What do you do now?" Dr. Coulson asked a shaking Hank.

"Uh…" Hank froze up as he looked down on the open wound filling up with bloody goo.

"Think, Pym," urged Dr. Coulson.

Hank was still not doing anything, trying his best not to look too confused.

"Start the suction and you start digging for those purse strings before he bleeds to death." Dr. Coulson suggested as he motioned for a nurse to hand a clamp over to Hank.

But Hank didn't take the clamp. Nor did he make any move in finding the torn flesh. He was just standing there with a scared look in his eyes.

"B.P.'s dropping," declared the anesthisiologist.

Oh no…

"He's choking," Natasha whispered looking as scared as Hank.

Pull yourself together Hank!

"Come on Hank." I whispered.

Still… Hank didn't move.

"Today!" snapped Dr. Coulson. "Pull your balls out of your back pocket, let's go!"

Hank! Do something! Anything but just standing there looking like Bambi!

The heart monitor started beeping more urgently as the patient's blood pressure continuously plummeted down.

"What are you waiting for?!" Dr. Coulson sighed frustrated. He looked disappointed at Hank.

"Getting too low here, folks." warned the anesthesiologist.

Yep. Hank's done. He's choked…

"Get out of the way!" Dr. Coulson commanded as he shoved a shaking Hank away from the operating table. "Pansy ass idiot…" he muttered as he took over Hank's surgery. "Get him out of here."

Hank slowly backed away towards the scrub room, looking defeated.

One of the interns, a slim looking guy with sleek black hair, muttered "Double-O Seven" as he slipped out of the gallery.

"Yep! A total 'Double-O Seven'," agreed another intern.

"What's 'Double-O Seven' mean?" Janet asked in confusion.

I glanced at her.

"Licensed to kill," I answered under my breath.

There was shuffling and movement as the other interns began filing out of the surgical gallery. I stood up as Hank walked out of the operating room looking like a beaten puppy.

'One step forward, two steps back,' I thought as I looked down at Hank, shaking my head in frustration, as I made my way out of the gallery.


	7. Part 7

Sorry if the update took a long time... I got sick with the flu.

I tried at some point out of boredom but it didn't get me anywhere far, so I just put it off until i felt better.

Also, for those who are confused about the character changes I've made so far... I apologize.

...and this is what my sister aggresively warned me about: "don't just suddenly change your characters in the middle of everything just so you can avoid offing someone eventually..."

Yeah... so, for that, I apologize... but, to be fair... I didn't want to off Clint down the line because **SPOILER ALERT!** the doctor that he's playing as dies as the series (_Grey's Anatomy_) progresses...

That's just poor planning on my part... And I'm so very, very sorry about that! (._.)

And also, my sister and I both agree that CLINTASHA has to happen eventually down the line.

Anyways, here's Chapter Seven.

Enjoy!

* * *

We were all in a secluded corridor that led towards the basement and storage bays lined with spare beds and other equipment used for patient transport. Janet came across this place sometime during our shift and declared that it was a glorious place to hang out.

I sat on one of the beds, fiddling with my fingers, resting my legs, while Janet was doing some stretching exercises beside me. Natasha was lying on her side on the bed beside mine and Janet's, once again poring over a textbook, looking bored.

I glanced down at my watch. We have already been working as surgical interns for nineteen hours.

"'Double-O Seven'… they're calling me 'Double-O Seven', aren't they?" Hank whined while he played around in a wheel chair.

"No one is calling you 'Double-O Seven'…" Natasha, Janet, and I replied in unison, getting tired of whiney Hank.

"…I was in the elevator and Murphy whispered 'Double-O Sev-"

Natasha slammed her book and jumped out of her bed. "How many times are going to go through this, Hank, huh?! Five? Ten? Give me the number or else I'm gonna hit you…" she snapped at Hank, making her way towards the nearby vending machines.

"Murphy whispered 'Double-O Seven' and everyone laughed," defended Hank turning his wheel chair to face Natasha's retreating back.

"He was not talking about you." assured Janet as she did side curls beside me.

"Really?" he turned to face our bed.

But, really? Who else was he talking about?

I tried to be reassuring as well. "Would we lie to you?" I asked.

"Yes." Hank answered indignantly.

Honestly, once you get to know him, Hank is an okay guy… but I could seriously punch out his teeth if he didn't stop his whining.

Seriously!

"'Double-O Seven' is a state of mind." announced Natasha from the vending machines.

Hank snorted at this. "Says the girl who finished top of her class at Stanford." he retorted.

Even though I couldn't be certain of it, I felt Natasha was smirking by the vending machines at this statement of fact.

"Maybe I should have gone to geriatrics." Hank lamented. "No one minds when you kill an old person…"

I couldn't help but laugh quietly at that bit of dark sense of humor.

"Surgery is hot. It's the marines, it's macho, it's hostile, it's hardcore," Natasha enumerated. "Geriatrics is for freaks who live with their mothers and never have sex." She pointed out as she plopped onto her bed and returned to reading her textbook.

"I have got to get my own place…" Hank mumbled as he spun his wheelchair away from us, trying to hide his embarrassment.

Janet and I chuckled at that piece of opinion.

–beep beep! –beep beep! –beep beep!

We all scrambled to look at our pagers. As the other's face relaxed, mine became full of anxiety.

"Oh man. It's '9-1-1' for Katie Bryce. I have to go," I exhaled as I leapt off the bed and took off at a run towards the nearest stairway.

* * *

I took the steps three at a time, making full use of my leg muscles. Around me, the loud squeaking of my sneakers echoed deafeningly in my ears as I tried to sprint hastily to get to my patient. I had assumed that when you get a page that screams '9-1-1', you're patient is at the verge of dying… or is already dead.

When I reached the designated floor to Katie's room, I yanked the door open so hard that shook as it hit the wall. I hurriedly ran towards room 3604, yelling "excuse me, excuse me!" as I dodged other doctors and nurses left and right so I can get to my patient before she decides to bite the bullet. My chest was heaving as my lungs attempted to collapse onto themselves. It felt like drowning…

I entered Katie's room, out of breath, expecting a great deal of activity.

The sight that welcomed me when I got there was completely unexpected.

Sitting upright on her bed was Katie, looking bummed while flipping through a teen magazine. No nurses. No commotion. Nothing that looked remotely close to a '9-1-1 situation'.

I stared at her, breathing heavily, as I struggled to figure out what was going on.

"Took you long enough," she complained, putting down her magazine.

What the fucking hell?!

"You're okay? The nurse paged me 9-1-1." I breathed out harshly.

"I had to go all 'Exorcist' to get her to even pick up the phone," she explained like it was the simplest thing in the world. She closed her magazine and looked at me expectantly.

I grabbed her chart, seeing if anyone of the nurses made any changes to it since I last left her with her parents.

"Wait, nothing's wrong with you?" I asked, catching my breath, taking a good look at her chart to confirm my suspicion.

She simply replied: "I'm bored."

"You little- I'm not a cruise director!" I exclaimed. I so wanted so much to just smother her smug face with a pillow.

I put on my stethoscope as I stepped closer to Katie. I placed the chest piece on her chest, to check on her breathing and heartbeat, but I couldn't hear hers over my own quickened heartbeat and heavy breathing.

"You don't have to wig out," she sighed. I tried so damn hard not to roll my eyes at her. "The pageant's supposed to be on cable, but this crappy hospital doesn't get the channel." she complained. "If that cow, Kylie Wood walks off with MY crown, I have to see it. Can you call someone?"

I just looked at her in disbelief.

You're kidding. You're fucking kidding me right?!

"Okay. This is an actual hospital. There are sick people here." I lectured heatedly as I stowed away my stethoscope in my coat pocket. "Go to sleep and stop wasting my time!" I fumed.

"I can't sleep. My head's all full." she moaned.

"That's called 'thinking', sweet pea." I retorted as I turned away from her to make my way out of her room. "Go with it."

I stomped out of there seething.

I can't believe I just got played by a kid! Seriously!


End file.
